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they’d opted for the latter rather than incur his lordship’s wrath. 
    Raynor quickly explained the cause of the commotion and issued a series of curt instructions to find and destroy the furry culprit.  After dispensing the rest of the curious household staff, he reluctantly left the third floor.  He’d enjoyed the time spent with Marissa and Miss Forsythe far more than he’d thought imaginable.   Heading for the library, he wondered if it had been an anomaly.  As he remembered the pull on his heart that Marissa’s hugs gave him and the warmth that infused him as he observed Miss Forsythe’s delectable person, he sincerely hoped not.
    ~~~~~
    The more time Lady Lillian Ashbury spent with Georgeanne, the more she liked the young woman.  As she surreptitiously pried bits and pieces of Georgeanne’s life history out of her, Lady Ashbury decided this remarkable and vivacious miss would make Raynor an excellen t mate.  And although Raynor tried to hide it, she noticed her nephew was not indifferent to Georgeanne.  Of course, that was hardly surprising as the Honorable Miss Forsythe was uncommonly attractive.
    Now, let it be understood, Lady Ashbury was by no means in the habit of matching.  But never before had three people whom she cared for been in such needy positions.  Marissa’s was patently obvious.  The dear child needed a mother.  As for her nephew, he was nearing thirty, and it was past time he set up his nursery.  Especially since he’d come into the title and the line of succession needed to be secured.  Then there was Georgeanne.  Orphaned and without funds, she’d been forced from her home and her place in the ton to work as a governess.  Fortunately, with a little help from her, mused her ladyship, the situation lent itself to a convenient courtship.
    With that ulterior motive in mind, Lady Ashbury conceived the idea to take a greater interest in Society.  In the past when she visited, she generally observed a sedate existence, preferring a small dinner with intimate friends, a night out at the theater or congenial card party.  But now, she sought loftier doings, she decided, heading toward Raynor’s library.
    “By Jove, Aunt Lillian, you don’t need my consent to have some of your cronies to dinner,” replied Raynor, feeling affronted that his aunt thought it necessary to ask for his permission.
    “In the normal course of things I would not.  But it has been quite a while since I was last in London during the Season.  As such, I have been thinking of a more ambitious agenda.”
    “How ambitious?”
    “Oh, perhaps a few musical soirees, a small rout or two to start.”
    “To start?”  His eyebrows snapped together.  He didn’t know why, but he distinctly smelled a rat.
    “Yes, and a ball, but on a small scale, of course.”
    “Of course,” said Raynor with resignation.  He foresaw more time spent at his club in the near future.
    “If you have no objections, then I will take care of all the details.  And do not fret, Anthony.  With the help of your competent staff, I promise a minimum of disruption to your life.”
    “Oh, I’ve no objections,” he answered while considering a sojourn of a few weeks to one of his country estates.  He could check on his bailiff’s reports concerning the spring plantings.
    “Excellent.”  Lady Ashbury rose from the settee.  “I thought to start at the end of the week with a small dinner that includes some musical entertainment.  I have engaged an Italian opera singer rather than assault our guests’ ears with some insipid deb’s caterwauling.  I will want a list of your friends to invite as well.”
    Like a ship in full sail, his aunt was gone before he could phrase a response.  When it dawned on him that she had arranged for the party’s entertainment prior to their talk, he had the unsettling feeling that he was being drawn into an invisible snare.
    Then he gave his cravat a tu g, for it seemed uncommonly